


Can't Accept It Yet

by Sounddrive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a few months after Genji woke up from his cyberization surgery. He can't help but feel alone and isolated, but there are a few people that help lessen the pain.</p><p>Pre-Relationship Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Accept It Yet

“Hey look at what came in the post today!”

Genji looked up as Tracer skipped over, a package in hand with Genji’s name plastered over it.

“Eh?” Genji was surprised. “I didn’t order-”

“Genji, it’s your Overwatch uniform!”

 _Oh. So that was why Dr. Ziegler was taking my measurements,_ he thought.

Genji grabbed the metal knife that Tracer offered him. With quick slices into the tape, Genji carefully opened the flaps of the box. Right inside, folded neatly together, was his Overwatch uniform. The orange and black clothing had him dumbstruck for a moment.

“Aren’t you going to try it on?” Genji lifted his head up to meet the gaze of the excitable Lena “Tracer” Oxton.

He closed the flaps back over the uniform and tucked the box under his arm. “Pardon me,” he muttered. He got up, and walked away.

* * *

 

“I cannot accept this, Dr. Ziegler.”

Mercy looked over her shoulder to see Genji unceremoniously dropping the box onto the nearest medical berth.

“And why not?” Angela walked over to Genji. Arms crossed, shifting his weight from one foot to another, Genji couldn’t look at her in the eye. “You are a part of-”

“I am a part of Overwatch. I am still alive _because_ of Overwatch,” Genji let his arms drop. His fists clenched and unclenched.

The good doctor had prepared herself for when Genji abruptly turned and punched the massive dent into the wall behind him. However, hearing him yell in frustration made her eyebrows knit in concern.

“Genji,” Mercy approached the cyborg. She moved herself so that she was a few feet behind him, just off to his left.

“Ack,” Genji struggled to remove his fist from the metal wall. With a grunt and strategically planting his foot on the wall for leverage, he did so. Once his hand was freed however, he realized that because of his actions, his mechanical hand was locked. The gears within his servo squeaked and whined in protest as he tried his damnedest to loosen his almighty grip.

“Please,” Genji held out his hand to her before Dr. Ziegler had a chance to ask if he wanted assistance. He then vaguely gestured to the area around his head, adding, “Or even better get a hammer-”

“ _No,”_ she said pointedly. Angela grabbed the wrist of his injured hand. “I am a doctor first and foremost. I do not inflict harm to people unless they tried to attack me first.” Realizing what she said, Mercy looked right at Genji, who had bowed his head.

The next few moments were thick with nervous anticipation. At least until . . .

“ _Yurushite,”_ Genji said, his voice thick with regret.

She knew that he wouldn’t harm her. Not intentionally of course.

“ _Yurushite ageru,”_ Angela replied in kind. “Now, let me take a look at that hand . . .”

* * *

 

The sun was already setting. People were heading home from work or from the market. Just a normal everyday day.

Genji felt sick as he passed people by. He earned looks of either disgust or intrigue. There was no in between.

The nearest bakery was down the street from Overwatch’s headquarters. Genji remembered that McCree mentioned that Dr. Ziegler’s favorite pastries came from ‘this lil’ mom and pop store’, whatever that meant.

The cyborg paused in front of the door to the building. He reached out to grab the handle, but he hesitated. His fingers trembled.

_C’mon, this is for Dr. Ziegler. For the good doctor, bakayarō-_

“Entschuldige uns?” _Excuse us?_

Genji jumped, scaring whoever was behind him. When he turned around, he noticed that a bunch of people had stopped. All of those eyes were on him.

_Not good not good . . ._

“Sorry.” Genji stepped away to let the mother, who quickly picked up held her young child close to her breast, shuffle into the bakery. If he had pockets, he’d be shoving his hands right into them . . .

Defeated, Genji turned away. He headed back to Overwatch’s Headquarters, empty handed.

* * *

 

“Hey, Mr. Robot, wait!” Genji hissed at that, but he didn’t want any civilians to know what his real name was.

“Yes?” he turned to the civilian. He blinked, surprised to see that it was the bakery owner. The short man’s English wasn’t the best but he tried.

“Phew-you walk fast,” the stout little man panted, doubling over a moment. Genji just looked at him curiously. “I’ve seen you at the window, but you never come in. Are you just window shopping, or did you ever intend to buy something?”

“I am sorry, but I didn’t think I was wanted around. And I think I scared away some of your regulars.” Genji shrugged. He saw a lot of the people’s faces whenever he passed by. At Overwatch HQ, it happened, but he didn’t blame any of them.

He looked so much like a detestable _Omnic_ after all . . .

“Ah, don’t worry about them.” The old man waved it off. “Come, come inside. It is chilly . . .”

Genji was going to say that he didn’t feel cold. He could see that it was indeed chilly, being at 6 °C, but he didn’t say that.

He followed the man into his store. Above their heads, a little bell rang cheerfully as the door gently tapped its bottom.

“So, what is it that you wish to get?”

Genji didn’t know how to correctly pronounce the names of the respective pastries properly, but he pointed them out for the baker.

Once Genji was rung up for the items, he was about to dig into a little compartment in his upper arm for cash, only for the baker to stop him.

“ _Eh?_ But-”

“It’s on the house today. Don’t worry about it,” Genji accepted the box with a bow. He wished the baker to have a good night, and left.

* * *

 

Genji walked to Dr Ziegler’s office. He gently knocked, but was startled to see her room slightly ajar. He froze, taking a few moments to look around before he pushed open the door. His eyes widened before he relaxed.

She had fallen asleep on her desk, again.

Genji backed out, going toward the nearest supply closet. Balancing the box of goodies in one hand, he reached up with the other to grab a blanket. He returned to her office and set down the box of goodies on her desk. With his hands free, he moved on to drape the blanket over her back.

The first thing Angela Ziegler saw in the morning wasn’t the box of goodies near her head. It was of Genji Shimada with his back to the corner opposite of her, legs crossed, and head bowed in his sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: According to this: http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-33901966 Yurushite is along the lines of ‘asking for forgiveness’. According to this: https://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080913000142AAAKChM, yurushite ageru is the more informal way of saying ‘I forgive you’


End file.
